Always There
by Sora Livana
Summary: His wrists were burning, and he could feel blood trickling between his fingers... Where was he? Why was here? ...Was intended to be a oneshot, but has been continued.
1. Alone in the Dark

**_A/N: A piece I began to write when feeling a bit down, and completed recently. Was intended to be a oneshot, but may be carried on..._**

**_NCIS and all of the characters belong to Donald P. Bellisario - I just like to torture them :D_**

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**Alone in the Dark**

Blearily, he struggled to open his weary eyes even a fraction. Instantly, he was bombarded with pain, shooting mercilessly through every part of his body. A small cry escaped him, as he tried desperately to remember what had happened the night before; what he had done to be in so much agony. But, try as he might, he could not remember a thing.

Forcing his tired eyes open, and wishing that his hands were free so that he could rub the sleep from them, he looked around him, trying to find some hint as to where he was and what was going on, but there was nothing. He was surrounded by darkness.

His wrists were burning, and he could feel blood trickling between his fingers. Ropes cut deeply into his flesh, hurting with every slight movement, blistering the skin. A small whimper escaped him as he tried to shift his weight slightly, allowing some blood to flow back into his legs.

Above him he could hear a noise as a door creaked open, followed by quiet footsteps, ringing on the cold, concrete floor. Tensing all of his muscles, he strained his eyes in a vain attempt to see who it was, but it was hopeless. The darkness in the room was absolute.

The footsteps got closer. After what felt like forever, they stopped, seemingly right in front of him. There was a rustling of clothes as the figure, no more than a faint silhouette now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, crouched before him, at what he presumed was eye-level. Warm, rank breath smothered his bruised face, the putrid smell choking him, forcing bile up his throat. Closing his eyes and trying to turn away, he heard a low, faint chuckle that echoed off the concrete walls of his prison, and quiet whispering…

He froze.

Everything came back to him.

-- Flashback --

Gibbs was in interrogation, questioning a young man, a Petty Officer, of his connection with several young naval officers who had gone missing in the past couple of days. All of the men had headed off to work in the morning, yet none had ever arrived. This man was the only connection between them all. Things were just starting to get intense.

"Where are they, Petty Officer Cullen?" Gibbs practically roared his question; days of digging and investigating had led him to this pitiful excuse for a human, shacked up in his apartment, hiding from the cops but not bagging on the determination of his team to have him arrested and questioned. That had been a few hours ago; since then he had been sitting and waiting in Interrogation Room 1, sweating, fearing his imminent meeting with the Boss. The man had had enough time to stew.

"I- I don't know, sir…" The trembling Petty Officer stuttered in reply, but the man on the other side of the glass could tell that Gibbs didn't believe him and, to be honest, neither did he. The man had a wild look in his eyes, a look that contradicted his plea of innocence. The silver-haired man slammed his hands onto the interrogation table. Hard. He spoke in a low, dangerous voice.

"We have four naval officers missing, and they all happen to be your 'friends', regardless to the fact that neither their wives nor colleagues had ever heard of you. On top of all that, we have your fingerprint in one the officer's cars, which he was driving to work when he went missing!" He paused, before asking angrily, "do you take me for an idiot?" The Petty Officer stared at the ex-marine in what looked, briefly, like fear. But his expression began to quickly change. A dark sneer began to grow on his face.

"You'll never find them alive, Agent Gibbs. _Never_. Now, I want my lawyer."

He clammed up after that, saying nothing more, but at least they had an idea what was going on now. It took several hours after that but, finally, they found the missing men. They were alive and well, regardless to their ordeal, and discovered in an abandoned warehouse only a few miles from the base at which three of them worked

It had been a long day.

"Go home, sleep." It wasn't a request, and to be honest he'd been exhausted, so he wasn't about to complain. After all, he could deal with the paperwork tomorrow, right? So, he headed home for the night.

Or, at least, he tried.

-- End Flashback --

The figure was still there, breathing heavily, _pungently_, into his face. His eyes had adjusted better now; that and the reasoning that someone would have to be _very _strong to abduct him led him to the conclusion that it was a man. Albeit, one with very poor hygiene. Shifting his weight again, he looked around the room as best he could with the next to non-existent level of light. There wasn't much; blank, grey walls, with no personal effects, and a metal door. Nothing to help him figure out who this person was in front of him.

After what felt like hours, the man pushed himself to his feet, still chuckling quietly beneath his breath. With a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, he watched as the shadowy figure made his way back to the door. Opening it, a slim beam of light shone into the room and with it a faint hope. That vanished the moment it was slammed shut, and it took all of his will not to break down then and there. Desperately, he tried to focus on other thoughts. Shifting through his tumultuous mind, he suddenly felt a deep anger burning within him.

His car!

That bastard. He remembered it all now. He remembered Gibbs ordering to go home, to sleep. He remembered going into the NCIS car park, starting up his beauty and making his way down the almost abandoned road. He remembered…

That bastard standing in the road. The sound of his horn still rang in his ears, but he hadn't moved, standing there stoically, a faint smile on his face.

_I should have run him over…_

Damn his instinctive reactions. Thanks to them, his car was now wrecked in a ditch, he was in complete agony and nobody would even know he was gone until…

Until when? He didn't even know what time it was. For all he knew, it could have been days since the crash. Yeah! That's right, and they'd all be out looking for him, and they would have found his car by now too…

_Or maybe it's only been a couple of hours and, if that's the case, it'll be ages until I don't turn up at work and they realise that I'm gone._

He began to curse his rationality, hating himself for this logical thinking, crushing the few hopes he had. Deciding that he had to do _something _to stop him going completely insane in his own company, he attempted to find out exactly what was wrapped around his wrists, but it was hopeless. Whatever the man had used, it was wrapped so tightly behind his back that he was unable to see. Inwardly he cursed himself. How had he managed to get himself into this situation? Hell! He didn't even know why the man had abducted him in the first place. Unless…

Damn.

--

He didn't know how much time had passed since he'd realised. It was still almost pitch-black in his prison cell and, due to the amount of blood he'd lost from the injuries he'd sustained in the car crash, he was beginning to feel rather light headed. He just hoped that he didn't have any internal injuries; the last thing he needed was to die from injuries he couldn't even _see._

_I should have worked on that hunch…_

When they'd been investigating the disappearance of the men, and name had popped up through one of their enquiries. Although the man was initially a suspect, they hadn't been able to locate him, and they'd soon been led onto Petty Officer Cullen. After that, things had moved so fast that he'd simply been forgotten.

David Jones.

Apparently he, like Cullen, had known all of the men who'd vanished, but once they'd caught their man, he'd been effectively forgotten. Not completely, though; he had a good idea that Gibbs was going to chase up after him. He always stayed at work until late, and his famous gut had been bugging him since Cullen's arrest and the men's discovery.

_I just hope he realises…_

He flinched as he heard the metal door swing open again, and prepared himself for Jones' arrival. Leaning forward slightly, he could see the man once again crouch down before him. Instead of chuckling this time, he spoke.

"I guess I should welcome you to my home, Special Agent." He drawled, malice dripping from his tongue. "Unfortunately, you won't be welcome for much longer, not that you'll care by then." He whispered something into the agent's ear. Shock rippled through his body.

_Because you'll be dead…_

He hoped they came soon.

--

The man had left a while ago, and he was becoming desperate now. Pulling at the binds around his wrist, he paid no heed to the shooting pain, wracking his entire body. Catching something in the corner of his eye, he instinctively cowered but, for some reason, felt the urge to look at whatever it was. Tentatively, ignoring the ache in his neck, he turned his head.

_Oh great, now I'm hallucinating too…_

Perched on an invisible chair at the other end of the room sat Kate, staring at him, worry etched in her face.

_Hang in there, Tony…_Her voice sounded as though it were coming from a great distance, although she seemed to be so close. He tried to respond, but his mouth was dry from dehydration, and his throat ached due to unseen bruises.

_They're coming to save you…_

He looked at her, the expression on her face, and felt a sudden pang of loss. Kate had been like a sister to him.

_God, I miss you, Kate._

She looked at him intently.

_I miss you too, DiNozzo._ He smiled faintly, not at all perturbed by the fact that she seemed to be reading his mind.

_Looks like I'll be joining you soon anyways._ She narrowed her ethereal eyes at him.

_No you won't Tony. Listen. Can you hear that? Like I said, they've come to save you_. Faintly, he could hear shouting, and he flinched as he heard the recognisable sound of a gunshot. The shouting began to get closer and closer. Kate began to fade.

_You can't leave me Katie. Please… _He begged, but she just smiled at him, and then…

Then she was gone. The door was propelled open, slamming against the concrete wall. The sudden light from the hallway almost blinded him. The people in the doorway rushed over to him.

"DiNozzo! Oh shit…" He could hear Gibbs' recognizable voice above all of the others. "Ziva, make sure we got everyone. McGee, call an ambulance and wait outside for it." The urgency in his voice shocked Tony; he'd never heard it so clearly before. The ex-marine leaned down towards his face. His eyes flickered open.

"H-he-ya bo-oss man…" He couldn't manage anymore, his voice cracking and the agony in his limbs more painful than ever. He felt strong hands gently lay him on his side, and heard the click of a penknife as he got to work cutting the binds around his wrists.

"Don't worry DiNozzo. I'm here now." Gibbs spoke softly, and a faint smile graced Tony's lips. In the corner of the room, he could see Kate; not completely gone yet, but so faint that even he struggled to focus. She smiled at him, an 'I told you so' look in her eyes. Resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at her, she finally faded into nothing. Closing his eyes once more, he began to think, and realised that he was glad that Kate had been right.

He wasn't ready to die just yet.

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**_A/N: Well, there we are! Same as usual; please read and review!_**


	2. Too Often

_**A/N: I know that this was originally intended to be just a one-shot, but some of my kindly reviewers have been encouraging me to carry on, and then I had a sudden urge to write another chapter...**_

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**Too Often**

The sterile smell of the hospital chilled him to the bone; a natural reaction instilled in him thanks to the many times that both he and his agents had awoken after a gunfight (or something along those lines) with an IV attached to them and bandages wrapped around their wounds, barely aware of what was going on.

DiNozzo was by far the worse of them all.

In the ex-homicide cop's short time at NCIS, he had managed to get himself hospitalised so many times that all of them, including Gibbs, had lost count. This most definitely wasn't the first time it had been a result of him being kidnapped or dropping off the map for a few hours, and the ex-marine was seriously contemplating Abby's offer to put a GPS chip in the Senior Field Agent; they'd lost him too many times already, and soon even his luck was going to run out.

That kid was going to be the death of them both.

Impatiently, he paced up and down the hospital corridor, waiting with barely-concealed agitation, jumping on any nurses or doctors unfortunate to pass in the hope of getting answers. In his hand he clutched a polystyrene cup of long-cold coffee. Not, of course, that it could be really classified as coffee…

He continued to pace, completely aware of his surroundings, yet absorbed deeply in his own thoughts. Inside his head he was reprimanding himself, furious at the fact that something like this had happened to one of his team. One of his own. How could they have missed something so important? How on earth could they have let this happen, to Tony of all people? He'd suffered enough; hell, he'd even survived the damn plague, and that disease had died out in the Middle Ages! But the punishments kept coming…

Sometimes he just _had_ to believe in God; it wasn't physically possible for one human to attract so much misfortune.

He could hear the pounding of boots down the corridor, and he didn't even need to turn around to see that it was Abby. But he did. Tears were streaming down her face, messing her carefully applied black make-up. She was attracting a lot of looks, to say the least, but she didn't care. Rushing into Gibbs' arms, she sobbed quietly.

"He's going to be alright, isn't he?" He couldn't give her an answer. DiNozzo had been missing for two days before they'd found him; who knew what damage could have been inflicted on him in that time?

"I don't know Abbs; I haven't spoken to a doctor yet, but he's in capable hands." Following closely behind her, he could see the rest of his team. McGee had been left to deal with the crime scene after Tony had been taken in the ambulance, and Ziva had dealt with their prisoner, Tony's captor. He gave a small smile of relief as he saw Ducky walking with them, glad that there was someone here who he genuinely trusted to tell him that DiNozzo was going to be alright; he'd never really understood medical jargon, and even if the doctor gave them the simple facts, he'd need the medical examiner to tell him _exactly _what his agent's chances were. Resigning himself to waiting again, he sat down on one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs, which squeaked beneath him. The others soon followed-suite, all except Abby, who continued to pace back and forth nervously, her shoes leaving black rubber marks on the once-pristine hospital floor.

--

After what felt like hours, a doctor quietly approached them, wearing a white-coat over his green hospital uniform. As he stood in front of them, Gibbs and the team pushed themselves to their feet.

"Agent DiNozzo's family?" He surveyed them, taking in the motley bunch, but asking no other questions.

"Yes" Gibbs replied, his voice gruff. "How is he?" Despite all of his efforts, he couldn't help the slightly worried tone in his voice. The doctor looked at him.

"Agent DiNozzo has suffered severe dehydration, as well as having received many superficial injuries. He also has several bones broken, including the radius bone in his left arm and fibula bone in his left leg. He must have received quite a beating at some point, as he had some internal bleeding, but fortunately we managed to get that under control. He also had quite a bad concussion, but that's not too difficult to sort out. We've put him on a drip, and he's not conscious at the moment but, overall," he looked at them with a small smile on his face, "he is one lucky man." At these words the entire group sighed in collective relief. "You can visit him one at a time, but I doubt he'll be conscious for a few hours at least." At this he began to lead the way to the room in which DiNozzo was.

They let Abby visit him first; she had been so worried about Tony, someone she considered almost a brother, that it was only fair. Ducky took the young doctor aside, and began to talk to him more in-depth about Tony's condition, and McGee and Ziva began to chat amongst themselves, the relief on their faces evident. DiNozzo may have been a pain in the backside, but he was still loved (in a slightly obscure way) by everyone on the team. Aware that mobiles weren't allowed to be used in hospitals, and that he didn't have to worry all that much about his agent anymore, he signalled to Ziva that he was going outside to make a call. She acknowledged his gesture, and he made his way out into the night.

--

The wind chilled him as he stepped out of the hospital doors, taking a few moments to get his bearings; he whipped out his phone a pressed speed-dial.

"Director Shepard, NCIS…"

"Jen." There was a slight pause at the other end of the phone.

"Jethro. How is DiNozzo?" He knew how frustrated she was; she would have come to the hospital too, but there was a lot going on at NCIS.

"He's going to be fine. Out cold at the moment, and he'll need some time to recover. Apparently he's got a few broken bones as well as internal bleeding and a major concussion. Add to that the fact that the bastard gave him nothing to drink for two days…" He drifted off, the anger still raw in his voice. "Damn it Jen, how did I miss it?" There was silence at the other end of the phone, before she began to speak quietly.

"It wasn't your fault, Jethro…"

"Like hell it was! I should have realised that we'd missed something, especially something this important. If I hadn't, DiNozzo wouldn't be in the state that he's in!" Once again, there was silence at the other end of the phone.

"We have him now, and DiNozzo's going to be fine. Don't beat yourself up about it." He didn't reply, simply grunting before hanging up. Inhaling the cool winter air, and taking a second to compose himself, he made his way back into the hospital.

--

Abby had left Tony's room by the time that he'd got back from his call. At his entrance, McGee had excused himself, and Ziva likewise. He didn't blame them; it had been a long two days for them all, and now that they knew DiNozzo was fine, it was a chance for them all to go home and get some rest.

Not him, though.

He waited for Ducky to finish with Tony, slightly more patiently than he had before. The old M.E took his time, and Gibbs was under no doubt that he was reminiscing about some time long before his agent had been born. Not that the younger man would notice in his deep slumber. After what felt like hours, the elderly man exited the room, giving the ex-marine a small smile and the slight nod of his head. Without being pressed, he began to speak.

"The young Dr. Willis has been giving me a slightly more detailed view of young Anthony's condition." Gibbs waited for him to continue. "As long as there are no complications, he should be able to leave in a week, maybe less. However, he'll need someone to keep an eye on him for a short while after…" The silver-haired man just nodded, before bidding his old friend goodnight as he made his way home. Slowly, he entered the room.

He couldn't help but take a small intake of breath at the sight before him, but he quickly got himself back under control.

Tony was hooked up to a variety of devices, and wires were simply everywhere. Bruises, which had been barely visible in the half-light on the basement in which he'd been kept, were now vivid under the harsh-hospital lighting. Casts covered broken bones, and a bandage was wrapped around his head. A drip was attached to his one hand, and a heart monitor was beeping away to his one side, the beat steady and rhythmic. Sitting down on the chair next to his bed, he just stared at the younger man for a short while, before beginning to speak.

"Only _you, _DiNozzo, could get yourself abducted more than five times in less than a year." He remained motionless. "You'd better heal quick. Do you know how much paperwork you've left me? Believe me, I have no intention on filling it all in, so you'd better get a move on." There was still no response, but it didn't bother him. Leaning back in the chair, he closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax.

After all, he was going to be there for a while.

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**_A/N: Same drill as before, please read an review..._**

**_I hope to update soon, but I'm also writing another story at the moment, which I'm intending to finish soon :)_**


	3. One Big Family

**_A/N: A bit of a delayed update, which I apologise for, but I've had to do a lot of homework in the past few weeks. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and appreciate any reviews!_

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One Big Family

The pain in his head, the deep throbbing ringing within his skull, was almost unbearable. Every muscle in his body ached, doing no good other than to remove the vaguely fuzzy feeling in his mind. Just lying there, silent, he took a few moments to remember what had happened to him. A majority of his memory was taken up with images of the man, and the dark room in which he'd been held for what had seemed like forever. Smaller sections of his mind recalled his rescue, of his friends as they'd rushed in through the overwhelming darkness.

And then he remembered Kate.

The memory of their talk, of her comforting words, even if they really _were_ just a result of his broken state, left a bittersweet taste on his tongue. The sound of her voice in his ears had calmed him more than any of his rational thinking had ever managed; yet they had also brought with them the sadness that had tinged his soul ever since the day she'd died. He wasn't a religious man; God had never really held any meaning to him, especially not after the many, horrific, crimes he had witnessed in his time as a cop and then later as an NCIS Agent, but now he found himself hoping, no, _praying_ that the woman he had considered a sister had made her way to the pearly gates, even if they didn't exist in his own mind.

She'd deserved that much.

Sighing inwardly to himself, he realised that he couldn't just lie there all day, and soon he'd have to open his eyes and face the music, so to speak. He could already imagine the reprimanding he would receive from Gibbs; he was, after all, an NCIS Special Agent, and yet he'd _still _managed to get himself abducted on the way home from _work_.

It wasn't the first time.

Why was that? Was it something he'd done? What on earth was so bad that he had to suffer so much? Kate dying, catching the plague, being locked in a metal container… the list just went on. Sometimes it felt like his life was going around and around in a cruel circle, repeating every punishment he received like a broken record that nobody had bothered to change. Even the criminals he fought every day seemed to get off lighter in the end. In his entire career at NCIS, he'd ended up in the hospital so many times that he'd even had to attend a physical test to see whether he could actually be kept on.

Fortunately, he'd not been too bad, and even if the results had said otherwise, Gibbs had promised that he would never let his Senior Field Agent lose his job. Hell, scuttlebug had it that the bossman had marched right up to the Director's office and threatened to quit if they found him unfit for work.

The problem with rumours, however, was that you never knew if they were true or not.

Still, the thought that Gibbs may have done something like that lessened the pain he felt whenever a cutting remark was sent his way, or when he was reprimanded for what he considered a probie mistake. Whenever he imagined his boss storming up the stairs to make his voice heard, he felt that, for once in his miserable life, _somebody _cared for him.

Sighing again, this time out loud, he ignored the screaming protest in his head and forced his eyes open, wincing at the sharpness of the hospital lighting. At first, he just lay there, staring at the tiled ceiling, allowing his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness, but soon he began to acknowledge is surroundings. Attached to his arm was an IV drip, and to his left he could hear the heart monitor beeping in time with his heartbeat. The hospital gown was, as ever, extremely uncomfortable, and so was the bed in which he lay, but it wasn't that which grabbed his attention.

On his right-hand side, with his eyes closed, sat Gibbs. Whether he wasn't awake yet, or simply waiting for his agent to get his bearings, he made not a move as the younger man struggled upright and twisted his body slightly, wincing as a now-familiar burst of pain shot through his body. Inadvertently, he let out a small cry of pain.

"Don't strain yourself, DiNozzo."

The older, grey-haired man spoke softly, but the younger still paid heed. Relaxing all of his muscles, he slipped into a vaguely upright position, as his boss watched with mildly amused eyes.

"Boss…" He began, but stopped as he received a sharp, yet not overly painful (at least not in comparison to all of the other pain he was feeling) slap to the back of his head. Pausing a moment, he commented mildly, "shouldn't do that to a man with a concussion, Boss. Could cause damage." The ex-marine snorted.

"Your brain's already beyond repair." He feigned a look of hurt, before smiling softly. Some things never changed, and his boss was one of life's constants.

"How bad is it?" He knew the question was pointless; Gibbs was brilliant at hiding emotions, but Tony had always be an expert at reading him, and he knew from the expression on his boss' face that none of the damage was irreparable.

Didn't stop it from hurting like hell, though.

"A few broken bones, some internal bleeding, severe dehydration and a concussion." The response was short and sharp. Gibbs stared at the younger man, before sighing. Tony had never seen him look so tired.

"What the hell happened, DiNozzo?"

He looked down; feeling an inexplicable guilt for all of the worry the team must have been through. Not for the first time in his career at NCIS, he completely ignored Gibbs.

"How long was I gone for?"

"Two days, roughly 43 hours." Tony looked shocked, before raising an eyebrow.

"You kept count? Geez boss, never thought you cared." He grinned at the older man, and winced as he received another, slightly more painful slap to the head. Gibbs rolled his eyes, but frowned as the younger man stifled a yawn.

"Rest, DiNozzo." Tony sank back into his uncomfortable hospital bed, eyes closing heavily, as though weighed down by lead. In a matter of moments, he was in a deep sleep, the only indication that he was still in fact alive being the regular beeping of the heart monitor, and the faint rise and fall of his chest.

--

Gibbs marched into the bullpen, startling the remainder of his team, who were working intently on the case at hand. Although they had found Tony and there was evidence that David Jones had been in the house, it seemed that he'd been tipped off that they were coming, albeit too late. He had left the house in a rush leaving instructions, from what one of his goons who was now in one of their interrogation rooms had told them, for them to finish him off.

Painfully.

Fortunately, thanks to a combination of booze and some pretty ladies (prostitutes, as they now knew), this order hadn't been obeyed until it was too late, and before they'd known it, the NCIS were knocking at their door.

Or, more accurately, pounding it down.

The goons were going to be spending a long time in jail, but that wasn't enough. They needed David Jones, the bastard who'd hurt Tony in the first place. It had been 11 hours since they'd found their agent, and still there was no trace of the perpetrator. The fact that Gibbs had known in his gut that the man was involved only made him all the more insufferable.

"David! Have you traced his car yet?" He demanded as he marched past her desk, with what seemed to be his sixth or seventh coffee of the day clutched in his hand.

"He's disappeared… very much like a ghoul."

"No excuses!"

"Yes sir…" He stormed up to the Director's office, seemingly forgetting that McGee was even in the room. Waiting a few minutes until he was sure the coast was clear, he spoke up.

"Ziva?"

"Yes McGee?" She looked up from her computer screen momentarily, her brow furrowed as she tried to concentrate on her job.

"Uh…"

"Spit it out." She was impatient, as they all were at the lack of progress, and she didn't appreciate the delay.

"Uh, it's 'ghost', not 'ghoul'."

--

In the spacious room that was the director's office, Gibbs sat impatiently in one corner, waiting for his boss to finish her conservation with a Navy Captain about a corrupt officer within his ranks. After what felt like forever, she closed the discussion and turned to face him.

"How's Agent DiNozzo?" She enquired.

"Fine." She sighed.

"It's not right. Our Agent's put themselves in harms way all day. They should at least be allowed some peace at the end of work hours." He said nothing in response, but she saw him nod faintly in the corner of her eye.

"I want guards at his door, Jen. We don't know if that bastard'll come back to finish him off."

"Do we know _why_ he attacked DiNozzo?" She enquired. It was something that had been bothering her for a while. After all, the case in which his name had been brought up was now closed. Or, at least, _had _been until he'd made his move.

"He knew I'd come after him." She chuckled quietly.

"Your reputation precedes you, Jethro." She commented mildly. "Who's with him right now?"

"Abby. I gave her a break from the lab work. She been run ragged, and she's hardly working at her strongest with DiNozzo in the hospital." The red-haired woman nodded. She knew how much Abby cared for her friends. Apparently (this she'd heard from Ziva) Abby considered the team as one big family. Sometimes, she would just sit and wonder what her part in it all was. She gave the man before her a long, level look.

"Go, Jethro. Ziva and McGee will work on their own. Go back to the hospital, I'm sure Abby will be grateful for your company." He looked at her, perhaps noticing the exhausted look in her eyes. Saying nothing, he stood up and made his way out of the door. It wasn't until he was gone that she noticed he'd left his coffee on her desk.

He'd always known what she needed.

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**_A/N: Well, there it is! I hope you enjoyed, and I intend to update soon. Until then, however... :)_**

**_Please read and review!_**


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